For The Longest Time
by CreativeCalling
Summary: He doesn't feel infected though, well not completely, but he more so feels enlightened. He's come to a realization, he can't do this anymore
1. Chapter 1

_**This is basically just me getting my creative blood flowing; practice basically. **_

_**Also Ryder's storyline is not canon in this. **_**I'm not sure if it's a one-shot but feel free to ask me to continue it. Your view is much appreciated.**

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They both rush in to the doorway with a flourish, rain having already drenched their funeral wear and still pouring heavily. His mother, Joan, slams the door ,mostly to keep the rain out, but there is an edge of anger when she does it. Ryder, her son, is standing by the window in the family room, staring out at the grim tone the sky has taken on and it's attempt to infect everything with it's foul mood.

He doesn't feel infected though, well not completely, but he more so feels enlightened. He's come to a realization, he can't do this anymore. He can't keep hiding who he is from his family, the chance of loosing them before they can know the real him is a great burden.

He turns from the window and steps deliberately into the hallway, stopping right before the kitchen doorway. He's keeps his head low so he can decide what to say before facing his mother. She is busying herself with cooking dinner, but she's making mistakes and spilling things, she runs a hand along her brow as she tries to collect herself. She glances at Ryder as he is, poised in the doorway , her mouth sets into a firm line.

"Ryder, sweetie, take off those wet clothes." she says sternly but affectionately. She sets some pots on the island and begins to gather some spices from the kitchen cabinet. Ryder doesn't move as he stares uncertainly at his mother. "Mom, I have...can I ask you something ?". He bites his lip in anticipation for his mother's answer, but she turns to him with look bordering on frustration. " Not before you change for dinner." she then examines the cabinet another time before moving to another one. Ryder groans in frustration and moves to follow his mother. "Mom! Seriously, this is important."

She lets out a frustrated breath and Ryder's steps falter as he suddenly feels like a bother,but his conscience reminds him that he needs to do this. He steps closer and waits for his mother to turn around. She doesn't. Ryder lets out an embittered groan, "Mom." he says with an edge of irritation.

"Ryder !" his mother calls in warning. "Can't this wait. I'm doing something at the moment. Get ready for dinner and don't pester me until you're done." Ryder's gaze falls to the ground along with his spirits.

Ryder shifts on his legs uncertainly as he suddenly feels like an intruder. He then feels something settle in the base of his belly, he's not sure if it's guilt or resentment, he settles for resentment.

"Dad would've answered me." he says spitefully but lowly. He makes to leave.

Suddenly there's a brief but sharp clap that seems to resonate in the room. Ryder is holding his face as his mother covers her mouth in shock. The two don't move to comfort the other. Ryder doesn't look at his mother but he can see the tentative hand being raised to him, he flinches just a little. Joan draws back her hand, but with fierce determination, she wraps her baby boy in a tight but gentle hug.

Ryder doesn't do or say anything, he's still reeling, so he lets his mother hug him without a word. And he wonders if she's too distracted to notice his tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to anyone reading this far, you are very much appreciated. Also this chapter is set three months after the first chapter. **

**Let me know if you like what you've read and would like to see more. Also I don't own Glee.**

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It's bright and sunny this late afternoon, birds are chirping , and the placid sky lets out a cool breeze now and then. The weather is so peaceful, so happy, and it's contradicts Ryder's mood perfectly, and that only makes him more angry. He stuffs his blood ridden hoodie in his bag before unlocking the door.

He doesn't bother being gentle, so he opens the door with frustration evident in his features. He walks past the kitchen doorway,past his mother, who holds her hand over her heart, the loud clang of the door had disgruntled her already worried heart. Ryder is already half-way up the stairs when his mother calls him back. He grumbles with abase but returns to the kitchen.

He can see the lines of worry etched in her brow as she examines him for something deeper than on the surface. "Where did you get that ?" her gaze wanes and she can't quite look at him. Ryder briefly touches the bruise over his right eye, he doesn't know what to say. The bullying has been going on for a while and he's kind of angry that she just noticed it. But ,he has gotten better at hiding bruises.

He doesn't answer her, too ashamed, instead he opts to look at the floor. His eyes wander to her face after a moment, to the morbid look on her face, and suddenly he feels guilty. Her features look pained as she tightens her grip on the pan. He visibly flinches and his gaze falters, but he does look at her again, she looks struck with guilt. "Ryder please tell me who did that." she looks so guilt ridden, so apprehensive that Ryder has to look away.

From the corner of his eye he sees her face contort in surprise. She breathes harshly, her nostrils flaring, and finally she slams the pan on the stove with a flourish. "Ryder!" Joan says. "Just answer me, please !" tears are welling in her eyes with a half-frenzied expression.

Ryder doesn't. Suddenly struck with fear and indignation, he bites his lip and makes to move from the doorway. But suddenly his mother is on him and her nostrils flare angrily. She strikes him with the pan and Ryder is backed against the wall as he tries to shield himself. Again and again his mother strikes him wildly, all the while screaming things; " Why are you acting like this!" "Why have you not spoken to me in three months !" "Just answer me !"

Finally she stops, suddenly drained of her anger, she drops the pan with a loud clang. She looks so vacant yet mortified, she reaches out a tentative hand but Ryder doesn't move from his fetal position on the floor. Her face becomes guilt ridden, tears threatening to spill, but she doesn't make to help him. Instead with a conflicted look she retreats to her room.

Ryder fixes his head into a more comfortable position, it takes a great amount of effort and pain. But he stares vacantly at the bright sunny afternoon through his window, tears falling soundlessly.

He falls asleep on the floor that afternoon.


End file.
